The Voyeur

Lying on top of the sheets I tossed and turned, the receding heat of the previous day slowly burning off. The windows were wide open, the fans humming along, but sleep remained elusive. I rolled out of bed and padded across the carpeted floor into the living room, moving quietly through the darkened apartment. I opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a bottle of chilled water.

Seeking just a few more degrees of cool I slid the screen door aside and stepped out onto the third floor balcony. I'd been staying in the leased apartment for a few weeks now, but most of my time had been consumed by work. I hadn't met any of the neighbors, other than a casual wave or hello as we passed in the courtyard.

The complex was arranged around that courtyard, the neat little apartments layered on top of each other three high. With the heat of the previous day slowly surrendering the most prevalent sound in the night was the hum of air conditioners. I've never liked sleeping in air conditioning and tonight was no exception, regardless of the heat.

Stepping out onto the patio I twisted the cap off the bottle of water and took a long cold drink, then casually glanced around. When I looked to my left I was startled to see a woman staring straight back at me.

She was standing just inside the patio screen door about thirty feet away. She was lit by a single lamp's golden glow from somewhere behind her. Her arms were raised over her head, each hand holding the curtains near the rail, about to pull the curtains shut.

Our eyes locked.

Then, I looked down. Or rather, I slid my gaze down her body. The patio rail was wrought iron, so there was no obstruction. She was raised on her tip toes, her brown skin glistening slightly. She was wearing a pair of sheer blue panties and a white t-shirt and nothing more. Her hair, a rich tangle of curls, was spread across her shoulders, disheveled. Her brown nipples stood in dark rings against the sheer white shirt.

We stood there for a long moment, stock still, pinned in silence.

She finally broke the stillness of the moment by slowly, very slowly, drawing the curtains together. When there was about a six inch gap between the panels, she stopped.

"Let's leave the curtains open so we have some cool air, otherwise I am going to overheat." she said, never breaking eye contact.

Then, she turned and walked back into the room, her hips slowly swaying. The couch was placed with its back to the window, facing the big screen TV inside the living room, and she walked around the couch.

"Stay down baby." She said, "I want to be on top."

I watched as a pair of hands rose up from on the couch, male hands, strong and heavily veined. They encircled her waist and helped maneuver her into position. Though I could not see him on the couch, I could tell that she was straddling him, that they were both shifting to get into position.

"Wait," she said, "move a little more this way."

They shifted again.

"There, right there, right there..."

"Oh fuck."

She let out a long slow moan as she sank down. Her eyes slowly closed and her head rolled back. I stood there transfixed as she rode him, so slowly, up and down, her eyes closed, her face an intense mask of concentration, her nipples hardening, pressing through the t-shirt. She started making soft grunting noises and thrusting herself down in short, sharp jerks. Her breasts swayed and bounced with each movement.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." she chanted softly.

Suddenly, her eyes opened and she looked straight out through the window, to where I was standing, not thirty feet away. She stared at me intently as her body was jolted up and down, her mouth half open. He had obviously taken over the rhythm underneath her and was now thrusting upward into her.

Slowly, her head began to rock back and forth and her eyes slowly rolled up and closed. Her orgasm rippled through her in waves and she moaned, a long whimpering moan, one, twice, three times and then she slowly folded herself down and out of sight.

I snapped out of my mesmerized state and turned and stepped back into the apartment, but I could go no further. I stood just inside the doorway, watching. Long minutes passed and then slowly she rose up from the couch and stood. She was naked from the waist down. Her pubic hair was matted and slick. The insides of her thighs glistened. Her entire body was coated in a light sheen of sweat.

On unsteady legs she slowly walked around the couch to the patio doors, then, stepped through, out onto the patio. I could see her clearly in the reflected light from the courtyard below. She smiled, a content smile, and slipped a hand between her legs. She ran her index finger the length of her wet slit, and lifted it, coated in cum. Then she curled her hand and made a slow stroking motion.

I knew instantly what she wanted and threw all caution to the wind. I quickly let my athletic shorts drop the floor and my cock, swollen and thick, leapt out, curving upward with my intense lust. I was so aroused it took only a moment.

I curled my hand around my cock, squeezed it hard and gave a few long, slow strokes. I came in moments, pumping jets of whites out across the patio in long arcs. I had to grasp the edge of the patio door to keep from collapsing as each wave crashed through me.

When I opened my eyes again and sought her out I saw just the flash of her smile from inside the curtains as she pulled them shut.